


Movie Logic

by tawg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn’t know how to declare his feelings to Sam. Enter a RomCom movie marathon, consortiums with angels and demons, a few fangasms and the world’s shortest roadtrip. Set during season six.</p><p>This fic contains some images.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
[](https://imgur.com/l5kmgoS)   


Castiel appeared in the large white room and did his best to look casual, a look that did not come naturally to him. Balthazar ignored him, sitting at the piano in what had been a cheerful discotheque in his small mansion, and for a long while the two angels existed beside one another in silence.

“I need your help,” Castiel said at last.

“What an absolute and total shock,” Balthazar replied. “Completely unprecedented event.” Castiel stared at Balthazar, and eventually the other angel shifted his shoulders awkwardly before turning on his seat. “Okay, what do you want?”

“You have a greater understanding of humans than I do.”

“No I don’t, I hate the apes. You’re the one going native.”

“You have an... _intimate_ knowledge.”

“Ah... Ah, I see. So our little Castiel has decided to become a man? I’ll call the local whorehouses and buy some stocks in lube.” Castiel looked down at his feet. “What? Do you need some diagrams? Some pointers? A helping hand, perhaps?”

“I don’t want... Not like that.” He looked up at Balthazar with the big blue eyes of his vessel.

“Oh no,” Balthazar said. “There aren’t _feelings_ involved? Yuck, no. I’m not getting involved in that. Go talk to a cupid.”

“A cupid will not help if there is no bloodline to continue. Also,” Castiel shifted a little guiltily. “Also, they don’t like me very much.”

Balthazar frowned. “They’re cupids. They like everybody.”

“They don’t like the notion of free will.”

“Ah, yes, that would rather put them out on the curb.”

“Also, they say that I am not good at hugging.”

“What?”

“I was likened to an awkward rosebush.”

“That’s oddly fitting.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Yes, but because you’re my friend I’m mainly doing it on the inside. Just give me a few moments to write your new classification on toilet walls across the galaxy.” Castiel frowned, and Balthazar forced the grin from his face. “No, see? I’m being totally serious about this.” He patted the piano bench. “Come on. Take a seat and tell Uncky Balthazar all about it.”

Castiel slumped unceremoniously beside Balthazar, his forearms resting on his knees. “There is a human that I... care for. Usually, it would be unwise for me to even consider such a distraction. But with Raphael occupied with peace talks with the old gods-”

“I thought people only got sent to the UN when their actors asked for pay rises.”

“What?”

“Don’t you watch Saturday morning-? No, of course you don’t. Carry on.”

Castiel gave Balthazar a long look, as if testing his resolve to stay quiet. Balthazar gave him what he was sure was a charming smile in response. “But with Raphael occupied,” he continued, “now seems like the most opportune time to declare my affections. Possibly the only time.”

“Well, it can’t be that hard. Take Dean out, get him drunk and then shove your... Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why would I need to get Dean drunk?”

“To make it easier to declare your affections and screw his brains out.”

“I have no intention of declaring myself to Dean.”

“You don’t?” Balthazar was stumped. “What other humans do you even know?”

“Sam.”

“Sam?”

“Sam.”

“Sam as in, a million feet tall, started the apocalypse, Lucifer’s vessel, freshly re-soul’d? That Sam?”

Castiel nodded. “Sam.”

Balthazar raised his eyebrows. “I’ll admit, I didn’t see that one coming. You never were one to take the easy option.”

“Will you help me?”

Balthazar considered the situation, the idea of Castiel harbouring deep feelings for Sam Winchester. Writing them down in his diary as he lay on his stomach in bed each night, idly kicking his heels in the air. It was hard to imagine, but Balthazar was pretty dedicated to his examination of the scenario. “Are you sure it’s not just bleeding through from Dean? Tongues are still wagging over the bond you two share.”

“I did consider that,” Castiel admitted. “But after examining the feelings... this is not a brotherly love.”

“... Are you _sure_ it’s not Dean’s?”

  
[](https://imgur.com/HQTpCUg)

~*~

The problem was that neither angel knew a great deal about complicated, icky human relationships. In Heaven, relationships were kept purely professional. It was a little boring, but a lot simpler. The general rule was, “If you must indulge in carnal needs, for dad’s sake don’t do it up here.”

“It’s a shame Anael isn’t about. An angel of Love and Lust would be a help right about now.”

“If she were still around, Sam would be dead and his ashes scattered across the cosmos.”

“It would make the more interesting elements of your relationship difficult.”

Castiel didn’t meet Balthazar’s eyes. “I was intending on holding his hand.”

“Of course you were. Point remains, we need to know what we’re dealing with, and the easiest solution is to go right to the root of the problem.” Balthazar vanished with a smug look on his face, and Castiel darted off after him in a flurry.

~*~

Balthazar had just beaten him to the Winchesters, though to the human eye they appeared at the same time.

“Haven’t you guys heard of knocking?” Dean groused, sitting up in bed and barely awake. Balthazar reached out and rapped on his scalp three times, causing Dean to flail and cuss.

“Cute, very cute,” he spat out. “What do you want?”

“Assistance,” Balthazar said grandly, “in the subject of romance.”

Dean looked from Balthazar, who was smiling like a student who was about to be handed the answers to the end of year exam, to Castiel, who was cringing beside him. “Romance,” he said flatly.

“Yes, you see, angels aren’t really big on romance. We’re more wham-bam-‘evenin’ ladies’ when it comes to relations. Not big on sticking around.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “You do tend to turn tail after you have what you came for.” Castiel was staring at the ceiling like he was in the Sistine Chapel, so intent was he on not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Why do you two need to know anything about romance?”

“An angel is setting out to seduce a human,” Balthazar said plainly. “We need to know how he would go about it. The tricks to it.”

Dean frowned. “Why would an angel need to seduce a human? Much as I hate it, you guys have got dirtier and easier ways of getting someone to cooperate.”

Balthazar clicked his fingers near the knot of Castiel’s tie, and he reluctantly tore his eyes from the ceiling. “Consent is important. For his purposes,” he shifted uncomfortably, “there would need to be real affection.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angels. “And why is this douche setting out to get a human’s affection?”

Castiel and Balthazar shared a look. “The human is an important vessel,” Castiel said at last.

“Very important that Heaven doesn’t get to have their way with this person,” Balthazar continued.

Dean focused his stare on Castiel. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Many things,” Castiel replied.

Dean huffed a sigh of defeat. “I don’t know that we’d even be much help to you. Sammy and me only have one serious relationship each. He’s ended in a fire, and I’ve got no idea how mine even worked.” Castiel’s shoulders slumped, and Dean shrugged at him. “Sorry. It’s just one of those things. Sometimes people work together, sometimes they don’t. No real reason why.”

Sam came out of the bathroom them, his shirt over one shoulder and his toothbrush still in his mouth. “Hey,” he said. “What’s the problem this time?”

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, though it was an amused look. “You got any idea where these two can get a crash course on how to sweep a human off her feet?” He waved a hand at Sam’s raised eyebrows. “Apocalypse stuff. Stopping some angel from getting a girlfriend, I don’t know.”

Sam thought about it for a moment before shrugging. When he spoke, a stream of toothpaste foam and spit ran down his chin. “A Julia Roberts movie?” he suggested.

Cas and Balthazar exchanged a look, and they were gone.

“I can’t believe you just told two angels of the Lord to go and watch Julia Roberts movies.”

Sam spat in the sink. “It’s a better lead than getting them to watch porn.”

“Angels watching porn is just creepy.”

“You should stop encouraging them to do it then.”

“Yeah,” Dean stared into the distance with a happy smile on his face. “I should probably stop doing a lot of things.”

“If you’re touching yourself under those blankets, I’m peeing in your shoes.”

~*~

“Come on,” Balthazar said, leading Castiel through his humble castle. “I have no idea where most of these doors lead, but there must be a DVD player around here somewhere.”

Castiel trailed after him, feeling continents shift beneath him as he stepped into a bedsit in Amsterdam, a balcony room in the Greek Islands, and – for some reason – a New York subway. “These portals...”

“I know, they’re brilliant. I have no idea whose house I stumbled upon, but they certainly took their fire exits seriously.”

“So you just happened to come across a house that has escape routes spanning the globe, and it didn’t occur to you to find out whose property you were trespassing in?”

Balthazar shrugged. “It’s abandoned. Some of the portals have even started crumbling. Besides,” he said, tossing a door open, “if the owner were still of this plane, I’d’ve seen some trace of the fine character by now.”

Balthazar stepped into what looked like a dull apartment that had been decorated with a nostalgia for the seventies. The air around him twanged, and Castiel threw his arm up to shield himself from the bright light that flooded the room. When it faded, they were not alone.

Balthazar had his sword in hand as he faced Gabriel. “Weren’t you dead?”

Gabriel looked Balthazar up and down. “Weren’t you a horse? Wait, that’s right, what happens in Scandinavia in the fourteenth century _stays_ in Scandinavia.”

“How are you alive?” Castiel asked.

Gabriel gave him a look. “It helps if you don’t die in the first place. Fake your death, and hide until it all blows over. I was hoping to get a few more centuries in,” he turned and frowned at Balthazar, “but it looks like I need to lay out some mouse traps.”

“How do we know it’s you?” Balthazar asked, raising his sword just a little.

“How do I know it’s you?” Gabriel shot back. “Stamp your hoof twice for yes.”

Castiel pressed Balthazar’s arm down. “We have more pressing concerns,” he reminded his brother.

“This isn’t more end of the world stuff, is it?” Gabriel asked as he dusted his clothes off. “I was hoping to miss all that _completely_.”

“It is something far more serious,” Castiel told him gravely.

Balthazar clapped a supportive hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “We’re trying to get him a date.”

Gabriel paused in trying to snap ash off his shoulders. “You’re kidding, right? Let me rustle up a credit card and I can get you a date this evening.”

“Oh no,” Balthazar said. “We couldn’t possibly have any kind of _easy_ solution.”

“I already have a person I wish to pursue,” Castiel said.

“Is it Dean Winchester?” Gabriel asked. “Because no one will be surprised. And I may have some money riding on the matter, if Saaphiel is still around.”

“It is not Dean,” Castiel replied. “It is his brother, Samuel.”

Gabriel froze in place for a long moment, before his mouth started twitching, as if he were repressing a smile. “Oh,” he said, “there is no way you two are cutting me out of this scheme. I clearly came back to life at the time my services were needed most.”

“We were about to watch Julia Roberts movies,” Castiel told him. “For research purposes.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Hey, whatever floats your boat. But I’ve got the popcorn covered.”

~*~

“I’m telling you,” Gabriel said, and had been saying since _‘Mystic Pizza’_ began, “forget making reality like a movie. Just drop Sammy-boy in a flick, you can follow him, and he’ll figure it out from there.” He paused to pat his pockets absently, and then went through the drawer of the end table with a distracted air.

“It’s too much effort,” Balthazar shot back, as he had been rebutting since the opening credits. “You stick humans in a fantasy and it all goes fine right up until the fantasy _ends_. Then he’ll be back to where he started.” He and Castiel were sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, the best position for pawing through Gabriel’s DVD collection and manning the player. Balthazar was twisted around to glare at Gabriel, one elbow propped on the table amongst spilled skittles and skin mags.

“It’s a great plan,” Gabriel insisted, pulling out old TV Guides and an empty chip packet. “I do this to them all the time.”

“And exactly how often have these elaborate schemes of yours actually worked?”

Gabriel paused for a moment. “Third time lucky?” he finally suggested. “Look, it at least gets the point into their thick heads. After that, they’re only going to make their own minds up anyway.” He started poking through the leaves of a sick looking pot plant on the long table behind the couch.

“What the hell are you doing?” Balthazar finally snapped.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel replied, frowning. “There was something I meant to do when I got back, but I can’t remember what it is. Cas knows what’s it’s like. You die a few times and it takes a while for the screws to settle back into place.”

“You’ve always had a screw loose,” Balthazar muttered.

“So it is not just a matter of expressing my intentions to Sam,” Castile said, having turned to watch his brothers bicker. “I must also prompt him to respond?”

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel replied, lifting a cushion off the couch and peering beneath it. “I mean, this is them, and you’re you. They don’t like moving out of their comfort zones. And you’re not exactly an easy transition. Sam’s type is typically pretty girls with short life spans. You’re out three for three.”

Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “And how exactly is it that you know so much about Sam Winchester?”

Gabriel looked up with a smirk. “Everyone’s got to have a hobby,” he said.

Castiel frowned. “How do I convince Sam to love me in return?”

“What do you think we’re watching these movies for?” Balthazar asked. “It’s all people falling in love and out of love and off cliffs.”

“Really?” Castiel asked.

“Well, maybe not the cliffs. But we can bloody well hope.”

“Aha!” Gabriel exclaimed, his hand shoved down the back of the couch. “I knew I’d put him somewhere safe!” He pulled out a glass ball, filled with black smoke, and flourished it triumphantly before smashing it on the end table.

Balthazar looked at Gabriel in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t just release a demon into your living room.”

“Not just any demon,” Crowley said, straightening his tie as he materialised. “Though it may be a moment before I get my old office back.” He turned to Gabriel and frowned. “You took your time following through.”

“Sorry,” Gabriel said with a shrug, “I got distracted.” Crowley harrumphed, but he held out his hand, and Gabriel shook it, and the room crackled with energy for a brief moment. “Pleasure doing business,” Crowley said, flexing his fingers.

“Same time next apocalypse?” Gabriel asked with a smirk.

Balthazar looked at Gabriel with reproach, though Castiel showed a complete lack of surprise. “You put the fate of your life in the hands of a demon?”

“To be fair,” Gabriel replied, “he was dumb enough to put his life in my hands in return.”

“What can I say?” Crowley said with a sour look. “The hardest sales require a little compromise.”

Castiel looked at Crowley thoughtfully. “Compromise,” he repeated.

“Oh no,” Balthazar said. “You cannot be thinking that.”

“He is,” Gabriel said. He looked up and added in a stage whisper, “Angels. We can tell these things.”

Castiel looked up at Crowley gravely. “We could use your assistance,” he said in a voice that predicted trials and tribulations.

Crowley looked down his nose at the angel. “You killed me,” he said flatly.

There was a pause as Castiel considered the hitch in their working relationship. “I would be willing to apologise,” he finally offered.

“No,” Crowley said. “Not a chance. Not a chance in _Hell_. You think I’m ever going to rely on a bunch of cloud-headed angels again? Not on your goddamed, feather-dusted lives. Not even on _my_ life. Hell could freeze over and I’d rather invest in a snuggie than consort with you blasted budgerigars.”

“We’re planning on fucking with Sam Winchester,” Gabriel said lazily.

Crowley conjured up a glass of scotch and sat on the free end of Gabriel’s couch. “When do we start?”

~*~

“You know,” Balthazar said as the credits to _‘Steel Magnolias’_ rolled, “I’m starting to think that this is all just leading us further away from the goal here.”

“I don’t know,” Crowley replied, stretching his arms over his head. “I found that film quite cheerful. Nothing like soul-crushing heartbreak to pick you up.”

“The answer must be here,” Castiel said, staring at the cover of the DVD as if he could will the plastic into giving up the very secrets of romance. “Sam would not have recommended this body of work if it did not speak to him on some level.”

“Alrighty then,” Gabriel said, sticking a hand down the back of the couch in search of the remote. “Let’s see what _‘Pretty Woman’_ has to offer.”

  
[](https://imgur.com/2Qeo7Xp)  


  


~*~

“Well,” Gabriel said as the movie ended. “That one is just filled with potential.”

“He already lives out of the Winchester’s pockets,” Crowley replied. “How is spending more time with them going to help?”

“Fine,” Gabriel said, stretching out and pushing Crowley a little further down the couch by means of a sock attack to his thigh. “We go to plan B – whore him out and wait for Sammy to see what he’s missing.”

They all paused to consider that plan, Balthazar considering it very intently indeed. “Could go a lot of ways,” he said at last.

“Does prostitution regularly lead to romance?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Crowley replied. “It’s more of a one-off kind of scenario.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, looking deflated.

“You’d probably get sex out of it,” Gabriel continued. “Sex is good.”

“Not the end game we’re aiming for here,” Balthazar replied. “Plus, I’ve heard about what relations with that boy does to one’s lifespan. Probably not advisable.”

“I have been resurrected several times,” Castiel said reproachfully.

“Really not the point here, darling.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, picking up the next case on the pile. “We’re up to _‘Flatliners’_.”

Balthazar frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a romantic comedy.”

“ _‘Medical students begin to explore the realm of near death experiences, hoping for insights.’_ ” Crowley read. “Something about past sins and physical manifestations of them.”

“It’s best to be thorough in conducting research,” Castiel said. “I don’t want to miss something important by excluding a text.”

Gabriel grinned. “Well, since the only time those boys can be honest about their feelings is when someone’s dying, this one definitely has some potential.”

Balthazar looked at Castiel and frowned. “We’re in way over our heads.”

Castiel nodded. “We need an expert.”

“I know a romance expert,” Gabriel said. “Well, a kind of romance. She’s also an expert with leather and candles. I have her card somewhere.”

“You’ll need better than that,” Crowley said, snatching the card from Gabriel and secreting it about his person. “What you need is an expert in Sam Winchester.”

“We’ve already tried the brother,” Balthazar said. “No luck. And who else is there?”

Castiel looked up from the DVD case. “There is the demon Ruby,” he said. “She had relevant relations with Sam.”

“Think she’d help?” Gabriel asked.

“Unlikely,” Castiel replied. “She died when the last seal was broken.”

Crowley looked like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Well,” he said, after significant poking from Gabriel. “Death is all a matter of perspective, as you well know.”

Castiel looked at Crowley hopefully.

“Wait a minute, or a whole millennia for that matter,” Balthazar cut in. “Do you _really_ want to bring back a demon who turned your beau into a blood junkie, started the apocalypse, _and_ just so happens to also be an ex-girlfriend?”

“It’s unlikely she’ll try to start the apocalypse again,” Castiel said.

“You lot started it anyway,” Crowley said, his lip curled.

“Oh, like your team wasn’t starting it at the exact same time,” Gabriel shot back.

“Can you resurrect her?” Castiel asked, turning his hopeful gaze onto Crowley.

The demon shifted in his seat. “Well, it can be done. Just yank her out before she dies. Do a sleight of hand so the boys don’t notice.” He looked at Gabriel and Balthazar. “I might need some juice to get there and back. _And_ it’s most certainly going to cost you. She was a pest.”

Balthazar gave Crowley a cold look. “You really think we’re going to hand over some loose souls that we just _happen_ to have lying around?”

But Gabriel was already digging around in his pockets. “No, wait, I’m sure I have one on me somewhere. What? You never know when one’s going to come in handy.” He was pulling trinkets out of his pockets: candy bars, business cards and bits of string, a yoyo, some teeth, and a collection of small glass bottles.

“Here we go,” he said, sorting through the glass bottles. He found a boiled sweet amongst them, and popped it into his mouth. “I’ve got some basic sinners, one or two virgins, a couple of dog souls-”

“Dogs?” Balthazar asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I like dogs,” Gabriel replied. “And, oh I forgot I had this. You want an in with the music industry?”

“We already have Taylor Swift,” Crowley replied with a smirk.

“Crud,” Gabriel replied. “I’ve been trying to off-load Snoop Dogg for years. Oh, and I’ve got some hunter blood. Not labeled though.”

“I’ll take the dogs and the blood,” Crowley said. “And the pop rocks.”

Gabriel made a face and looked ready to haggle, but he made the mistake of glancing in Castiel’s direction and got hit full force with the big blue puppy dog eyes of doom.

He sighed heavily. “ _Fine_. But be nice to the pooches.”

“Back in a moment, ladies,” Crowley said with a smile, then he disappeared in a flash that wasn’t at all blinding.

“You know,” Balthazar said, “we could just leave him there.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Gabriel said, sitting up. “I gave him money for a burger run!”

Castiel sided with Gabriel. “Burgers would aid our research,” he said firmly.

“Fine,” Balthazar said, crossing his arms in a huff. “But they’d better still be warm when he gets back.”

“Come on,” Gabriel said, throwing a fluff-covered piece of candy at Castiel’s head. “Put the disc in. This one sounds good.”

~*~

“You started _‘Sleeping with the Enemy’_ without me?” Crowley was past affronted and into pissed.

“You took your sweet time,” Gabriel shot back around a mouthful of popcorn. “Also, you’re not missing much. Double also, where the heck is my dinner?”

Crowley huffed a sigh and glared at Gabriel’s feet until the angel sulkily removed them from Crowley’s seat. Ruby, who was still shaking her hair out, peered around the room in surprise.

“Angels. You save me from certain death and then hand me over to _angels_? How is this an improvement?!”

“We’re marathoning Julia Roberts,” Gabriel said with a wide grin.

“Oh god,” Ruby said, sinking down into an arm chair. “This _is_ hell.”

“Now now,” Crowley said. “You can be useful or I can put you back where you came from.”

“Fine,” Ruby said, slouched down in a sulk. “What is it you want from me?”

Castiel told her. And fifteen minutes later she was still laughing. Weak, trembling giggles as she gasped for breath.

“The sound track is really ruining this movie,” Balthazar said from around a bite of a McChicken burger.

“I think this movie is ruining the movie,” Gabriel replied, crinkling as he did from the sheer number of wrappers that littered him and his surrounds.

Ruby finally took one last, long breath, and slumped forwards. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll help. I can’t not help. This is going to be hilarious.”

“Good girl,” Crowley said. “Now, eat your dinner.” He’d gotten her and Castiel a Happy Meal to share. Cas got the burger, Ruby got the fries, and they passed the coke back and forwards as the movie built to a climax before missing the action completely due to eyeing each other off over the toy.

“Alright,” she said as the credits rolled. “Clearly you boys have been going about this _all wrong_. Not every Julia Roberts movie has the key to love, lust, and happily ever after. You need to be more discriminating. Look, what’s the next one on the pile?”

“ _‘Dying Young’_ ,” Castiel read. “ _‘After she discovers that her boyfriend has betrayed her, Hilary O'Neil is looking for a new start and a new job. She begins to work as a private nurse for a young man suffering from blood cancer. They fall in love.’_ ”

Ruby paused. “Well, I guess that one has potential.”

“We are _not_ killing Castiel slowly,” Balthazar said firmly.

Crowley stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles as he rested his shoes on the coffee table. “Plus, do any of you really think that Dean Winchester will let his little brother play nurse to his angel?”

“We’d need to get Dean out of the picture,” Ruby agreed.

“I can do that,” Gabriel offered. “I’m _really_ good at that.”

Castiel turned the idea over in his head. “I think Sam’s main concern would then be to find his brother,” he eventually said. “And I would not wish to cause him any distress.”

Ruby sighed, and tossed the DVD over her should. “Alright, what’s next?”

Balthazar ruled out _‘Hook’_ as being too much of a departure from their normal lives, though Gabriel felt that it had potential.

“Does Peter Pan end up with Tinkerbell?” Castiel asked over their bickering.

“No,” Crowley answered. “He ends up with his wife.”

Castiel tossed the DVD over his shoulder. “Next.”

They ruled out _‘The Pelican Brief’_ due to the lack of romantic material, and then spent twenty minutes debating the possible merits of _‘I Love Trouble_ before even putting it in the player.

“It does seem like a likely scenario,” Balthazar admitted.

“And it’ll be easy enough to put you two in a variety of dangerous situations,” Crowley agreed.

“Whacky,” Ruby corrected. “They need to be dangerous and whacky.”

“I’m not sure how that would differ from our regular lives,” Castiel said.

“Also, the whole premise is based on two characters having snappy banter,” Gabriel pointed out. “Sorry, bro, but you are not snappy _anything_.”

“I think we should just skip to the late nineties,” Ruby said, juggling cases in her hands. “Conspiracy, conspiracy, family drama.”

“You’re right,” Balthazar said, slumping back against the coffee table. “It’s all too familiar to them for any of it to work.”

They watched _‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’_ , and had to deal with Castiel’s heartbroken face.

“Look,” Balthazar said helplessly, “they don’t all end like this one. Hardly any of them. That’s the bleeding point of romantic comedies.”

“Yeah,” Ruby said in agreement. “This one was made as an antithesis to the genre, you know, make a movie of the fact that real life isn’t like the movies.”

Castiel looked down at his hands, and the Happy Meal Hello Kitty stamper held loosely in them. “So rather than success, I am more likely to be rejected and then forced to hang out with the cohort in my elaborate plot until the end of my days.”

Gabriel grinned cheerfully. “Hey, hanging out with us is going to be _great_ fun,” he said. “Especially once we get the drinks flowing.”

Crowley looked at the three angels, and Ruby. “I’m not putting up with this for all eternity.”

Balthazar gave him a dry grin. “If it helps, angels have are coming with expiration dates these days.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Beats having no date at all. Right Cassie?”

Ruby snatched the Hello Kitty stamper out of Castiel’s hands, and threw it at Gabriel. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s skip to _‘Notting Hill’_ already.”

At that moment, Castiel’s mobile rang. It was the default ringtone, and annoyingly chirpy. “It’s Dean,” he said, looking at the display. “I must go.” He was gone with a ruffle of feathers, leaving his entourage staring at the space where he had been sitting.

“Does he always drop what he’s doing when Dean whistles?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” Balthazar, Crowley and Ruby replied in unison.

“... I think we need to get Dean out of the picture.”

~*~

“Yes?”

Dean jumped as Castiel appeared behind him. “This angel seduction thing, it seems pretty weird. Is there anything else you want to tell us about it?”

“No,” Castiel replied, and disappeared.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Sam said from his seat in the Impala.

“I don’t care, there’s something funky going on there, and I really don’t like it when angels go around- argh!” Dean jumped again – and later would deny that he yelped like a scared dog – when Castiel appeared right in the path of his pacing.

“In romantic comedies, why is the best friend of the female lead a gay man?”

Dean took a step back from Castiel’s intent and vaguely perplexed gaze. “Uh, Sam, you want to field this one?”

Sam looked up from his laptop and rubbed at his forehead, trying to chase away eyestrain from reading a backlit screen in the shadow of the car. “Huh? It’s kind of a mix of reasons. Having the gay community represented without threatening the heteronormativity of mainstream romance movies. There’s also the trope that gay men are feminised, giving them an understanding of both masculine and feminine subcultures. They can understand and sympathise with the female lead while giving her inside information on guys.” Sam rolled his eyes as Dean gaped at him. “What? I took a popular culture course in my first year.”

Castiel nodded. “This trope of gay men, is it accurate?”

Dean pulled his ‘I don’t know’ face. “I’ve never really hung out with any gay dudes, much less asked them for dating advice.”

“There were those two guys at the convention,” Sam said.

“What, those freaking players or whatever?”

Castiel leaned forwards. “Their names?”

“One was Barnes,” Sam said. “Like Barnes and Noble.”

Dean snorted. “You are such a geek.”

“The other one started with a D, like Dean. David?”

“Delorean?” Dean suggested.

“Demian!” Sam exclaimed, looking proud of himself. “Demian and Barnes. But I really don’t think they-” Castiel was gone, and Sam let the sentence die in his throat.

“Is it just me, or is this getting weirder and weirder?”

Sam shrugged, and turned back to his laptop. “I think it’s cute.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah. I mean, Cas, his people skills aren’t great, you know? And he gets stuck with trying to figure out human relationships to stop the apocalypse?”

“That’s not cute, more like scarily incompetent.”

Sam allowed himself a smile as he went back to mooching on an unlocked wifi connection. “Well, yeah. But he takes everything so seriously. I mean, imagine what kind of lore an angel would go to in order to learn about this stuff.”

“Great, now I’ve got an image of him reading Cosmo magazine.”

“Mills and Boon novels.”

“ _‘Men are from Mars’_ \- no, it’d be more like ‘ _Some Humans are metaphorically from Mars, other humans are inexplicably from Venus as improbable as it seems’_.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “Yeah, exactly. It’s cute.”

~*~

Demian was unjamming his first photocopier of a day when a gravelly voice addressed him. “Are you Demian?” a scruffy guy in a trench coat asked him. “Reader of the Winchester gospels?”

Demian looked down to see if he was still wearing his pyjama shirt by mistake. No, even his replica of Dean’s amulet was hidden beneath his uniform polo shirt. “Yeah. How’d you know I was a fan?”

Castiel grabbed him by the shoulder, and the world jerked beneath his feet.

~*~

“Is it just me?” Gabriel asked when Castiel reappeared in his living room, two humans in tow, “or are Sam and Dean looking a little different?”

“This is Demian,” Castiel said, pushing the human who was uneasiest on his feet into a spare chair. “And this is Barnes. They are homosexuals.”

“What the hell just happened?” Barnes asked, sinking down onto the arm of the chair his boyfriend was sitting in and clutching to for dear life. “What happened?”

“You brought us gay best friends!” Ruby exclaimed, catching on before the rest. “I like it, getting a man’s perspective on the problem.” There was a chorus of objections from around the room, but Ruby waved them all off. “Please, the closest to an actual man in this room is Crowley, and he’s been dead for a very long time.”

“Still remember the basics,” Crowley replied tartly, one foot propped up on Gabriel’s coffee table.

“This isn’t happening,” Demian said. “No way is this happening.”

“You read the latest book, right? The one that got leaked?”

“It was a fake.”

“It didn’t read like a fake,” Barnes hissed. “And you were at the con, he talked for ages about angels and demons, and that’s freaking Crowley _sitting over there_.”

“It’s not real,” Demian insisted. He turned and gave Ruby and Crowley a stern look. “You’re not demons.” Ruby and Crowley blinked in unison, their eyes going black. Demian whimpered.

“You’re safe,” Castiel assured him. “We need your assistance.”

“Holy crap,” Barnes said, tugging on his boyfriend’s sleeve. “Crap, crap. Look at him. You know who that is?”

Demian frowned. “You are not Castiel.”

“Yes, I am,” Castiel replied. The human and angel stared at one another for a long moment, and Demian finally looked away, unable to match the angel’s unwavering gaze.

“Right,” he said. “Well. Glad we sorted that out.”

Barnes was frowning at Castiel. “That’s not a trench coat,” he said at last.

Castiel looked down at himself. “It’s an overcoat,” he said in agreement.

“Edland always wrote that it was a trench coat. Do you realise how much fan art there is out there that is wrong?”

Balthazar’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Art? You mean little Castiel has a fan club?”

“I’m going to have to go and fix all of my sketches,” Barnes said.

“Your sketches are fine,” Demian said.

“I drew him with a trench coat, Dem! He is not wearing a trench coat!”

“The books _said_ it was a trench! You’re still keeping true to the book canon.”

“I’m going to be writing an e-mail about this.”

“It’s a freaking coat.”

“I could take the coat off?” Castiel suggested. “Since it aggravates you.” Barnes sucked in a breath, and seemed to choke on it.

“No,” Demian said firmly. “No taking clothes off in front of my boyfriend. That’s my job.”

“And you’re not doing it in here,” Gabriel shot back.

Barnes looked up at Castiel, trying to drink in every detail of his face. “You said you needed our help?”

“Cas has decided he needs a boyfriend,” Ruby explained.

Barnes looked like he had died and gone to Heaven. Castiel didn’t notice. “The Julia Roberts texts that we have examined have suggested that homosexuals are an asset in any love match,” he explained.

“In short,” Crowley said. “We’re having no luck figuring out how to cram him together with the moose and apparently having some gays around will help the brainstorming process.”

“They are also familiar with the prophecies of Chuck,” Castiel told the group. “They may have insights that will help us.”

“Well, I mean, we’re fans,” Demian admitted. “But we’re not fanatics. Not like BlackKaz or Samlicker81. _Especially_ not like Samlicker.”

“Hey, she’s alright, she organised the convention, and it’s thanks to her that the few extra books got printed. Edlund says so.”

“She’s a tinhat.” He turned to the small crowd of demons and angels. “She totally thinks that Sam and Dean are OTP.” There was no reaction. “You know, like, in love?” Still no reaction. “Hot gay man sex love?”

Gabriel blinked. “You mean they’re not?” Castiel shot him a dark look. “Look, we all agree that they have an unhealthy relationship, right? Right. All that dying for each other isn’t natural.”

“You wouldn’t die if your life depended on it,” Balthazar shot over his shoulder.

“My life regularly depends on me dying,” Gabriel shot back. “Just because you don’t have a knack for keeping your head down.”

“I was doing a fine job of it,” Balthazar said, dropping his head down in a sulk. Barnes was slowly reaching out to touch the cuff of Castiel’s coat, and recoiled as soon as the angel noticed him.

“So there is a greater expert on Sam and Dean?”

“I don’t know about expert,” Demian said. “I mean, she’ll twist anything to justify her head canon, and she keeps setting stories in her home town. But she knows the books backwards, I’ll give her that.”

“Her name?”

“Becky,” Barnes said. “Pine Creek, Delaware.” Castiel nodded at him and said a gruff thank you, and Barnes made a small noise high in his throat.

“You are such a fanboy,” Demian groused as Castiel disappeared.

“How many fandom tattoos do you have now?” Barnes sniped back.

Gabriel and Ruby shared a look. “These two are meant to help us hook Cas up?”

“Have faith in the gay,” Ruby said firmly. “All we need in some canapés and imported beer, and it’ll come through.”

Gabriel shrugged, and snapped his fingers.


	2. Chapter 2

Twenty minutes after collecting Becky, Castiel was beyond merely taking her home. He was considering dropping her into the sun.

“I’m sorry,” Becky said, “but you’ll never be able to split Sam and Dean up. Their love is just too strong.”

“They split up all the time,” Demian protested. “Book two, book five, nearly all of the comics.”

Becky waved her hand dismissively. “That’s just physical separation. _Spiritually_ they’ll always be bound to one another.”

“Can we kill her?” Crowley asked. “Because if I have to listen to much more of this, I’m going to kill someone and it may as well be her.”

Ruby was leafing through Becky’s notebook. “This anatomy is really off. If Sam and Dean are face to face, how can Sam lick the nape of Dean’s neck? Human heads don’t bend. I’ve checked and everything.”

Becky snatched her book back. “Get your hands off that. It’s not for you to touch.”

Ruby smirked at Becky. “These hands were more than good enough to touch Sam’s-”

Becky let out a growl and Balthazar restrained her. “Wait, what am I doing?”

“Waiting until I get the wading pool filled with jelly ready?” Gabriel suggested.

“You can do that?” Demian asked. “I mean, just make anything out of nothing? But how do the physics of that even work?”

“Do I look like a physicist?”

“You sure don’t look like a Trickster God.”

“And what, you’re the expert now?”

Balthazar looked at Castiel. “I don’t think your grand plan of assembling a crack team is working,” he said dryly.

“No.” Castiel looked forlorn. Barnes saw the look on Castiel’s face, reached over and grabbed Becky by the chin, and turned her to face Castiel. She took one look of his large, defeated, miserable eyes and made a noise that was a cross between and squeal and a coo. Castiel looked at her balefully.

“Weeeelll,” Becky said, clearly struggling with a deep conflict.

“He pulled Dean out of hell,” Barnes said. “He brought Sam and Dean back together.”

“He practically enables them,” Gabriel chipped in.

Becky gave Castiel a cautious smile. “You don’t want to split them up?”

“Sam and Dean are not themselves when they are not together.”

“Okay,” Becky said. “Okay. Oh wow, an angel of the lord supports my ship.”

Demian turned to Barnes. “If she squees _one_ more time...”

“It’s okay,” Becky said, beaming up at Castiel. “I give you my permission, and pledge all of the help I can offer to helping you snare Dean in your love game.”

Castiel gave Becky a perplexed look. “Why does everyone assume I have designs on Dean?”

Becky mirrored his head tilt. “Who else is there for you?”

Barnes poked his boyfriend in the side, wearing the smuggest grin in the history of human facial expression. “You owe me dinner.”

“Shut up,” Demian said. “I owe you dinner if Sassy becomes _canon_.”

“Real life trumps canon.”

Demian stared at Barnes in disbelief. “We live on the internet, dude. You know that’s not true.”

“Sam?” Becky exclaimed. “Sam?!”

“You know,” Balthazar observed, “I had that selfsame reaction.”

“ _Sam?!_ ”

“I know, I know. He’s clearly settling.”

Becky froze, and her head slowly swivelled to face Balthazar. “Please let her spew pea soup,” Ruby whispered, looking at the ceiling. “Please.”

“You think that _Cass_ is settling for _Sam_?”

Gabriel pulled a face. “Why are you saying his name like that?”

Becky tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s how it’s spelt in the books.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows and sunk back into his spot on the couch. “I need to get my hands on these things.”

“Look,” Balthazar said, an amused smile on his face. “I understand that you’re a little _over_ -invested in Winchester the youngest, but Castiel here is an angel. I mean, there are two things above angels in the food chain. One of them is a different type of angel, and the other is _God_. Sam just doesn’t compare.”

Becky was on her feet, thrusting her finger into Balthazar’s space. “Sam is way better than any angel! He’s better than you, whoever you are! Sam is kind, and brave, and honest-”

“Except for all of those times he lies,” Demian chipped in.

“-honest when it counts,” Becky corrected. “He’s handsome, and smart, and makes sacrifices, and cares for his family, and, and, and he’s just the best, alright?”

Balthazar took Becky’s finger between two of his own, and removed it from the vicinity of his nose. “A stellar argument,” he said flatly.

“You agree with me, don’t you Cass?”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply.

Becky shot a triumphant smile at Balthazar. “And since for some reason all of us humans and demons and angels and apparently some kind of god are here to help Cass get what he wants, you can just take your angelic elitism and-”

“Yes yes, very good, we have the point, thank you,” Balthazar said, pressing her a step backwards with a fingertip to each of her shoulders. He frowned at Gabriel. “How come you get to be a god?”

Gabriel shrugged. “The universe just loves me.”

“Look, this has all been incredibly boring since we ran out of DVDs and someone ate the last of the pizza,” Crowely said pointedly. “But there are things I could be doing right now, king of hell and all that.”

Castiel’s phone went off again. “I need to-”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “See? You don’t know the first thing about this. You can’t just go when they call. You have to make them wait a little.”

“It’s true,” Becky said. “It adds tension to the narrative.”

Barnes looped his arm around Demian’s shoulders. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he added.

Castiel stared at the phone in his hand, torn. Balthazar reached over, and hit the end call button, before taking Castiel’s phone and slipping it into his own jacket pocket. “You’ll get this back when we’re ready to initiate plan ‘Let Castiel _Settle_ for a Boyfriend’. No more distractions.”

“We have a plan?” Castiel asked.

“... We have a plan title, that’s close enough.”

Castiel looked around at the group he had collected. “Where do we start?”

There was a long stretch of silence, broken by Barnes snapping his fingers. “Clothes,” he said when all eyes were on him. “You always wear the same thing, right? Well, the first step of any date night is finding the right thing to wear. You want Sam to notice you... Becky, Ruby, what does Sam like?”

“Dean,” Becky said promptly.

“Blood,” Ruby added.

“Maybe a red tie?” Demian suggested. “What? I’m just saying.”

Barnes looked at Crowley. “You’re a man of taste.”

“Despite what the company might suggest.”

“Could you help Castiel get fitted out?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “You did kill me.”

“An inconvenience you’ve recovered admirably from,” Balthazar rebutted.

“I was far more interested in this scheme when it seemed like it would involve intense mortification on someone’s behalf.”

Ruby tapped her feet against Crowley’s. “Sam in a relationship is a distracted Sam,” she advised.

Crowley considered this. “Alright,” he said at last. “Having a favour up my sleeve might come in handy, next time you decide to kill me.”

“If you get him new shoes, it’ll count as a second favour,” Balthazar called as Castiel crossed to stand by Crowley.

Castiel looked down. “What’s wrong with my-?” but he and Crowley were gone before he could finish.

“Okay,” Barnes said. “Becky, Ruby, you’re our Sam Winchester experts. Come up with a list of what Sam looks for in a partner, and ways we can make him see Castiel in that light. Demian, you adjudicate. You know, put the man-spin on it.”

Gabriel perked up. “Did someone say meat-spin?”

“ _No!!_ ”

Gabriel sank back with a sulk. “Just asking. What do I do?”

Barnes looked around the room. “We could use some snacks? And some paper?”

“I’ll just sit here and look lovely, shall I?” Balthazar drawled.

“No, you’ve got a bigger role in this than anyone else.” Balthazar raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to need to be Castiel’s wingman.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“More serious than Becky is about Wincest. Getting involved with Sam is a dangerous task, and Castiel is going to need someone to help him get Sam alone, _and_ save his neck if he gets struck down by the doomcock.”

Balthazar gave Barnes a flat look. “Doomcock?”

Demian looked up at his boyfriend, and smiled. “I love it when you take charge like that.”

~*~

It was two hours after Dean’s call before Castiel was deemed appropriately dressed, and that was with angels bending space and time. One month on earth equated to ten years in Hell. A day with Crowley’s tailor equated to about one eighty-seventh of an angelic year, and you all know how that divides out into people time.

  
[ ](https://imgur.com/ZwD1vvS)   


“He’s resorted to ringing non-stop,” Balthazar complained as he handed Castiel’s phone over. Crowley intervened and turned it into a smartphone. Castiel stared at it uncomprehendingly until Ruby sighed, snatched it out of his hand, and swiped a finger across the screen to accept the incoming call.

“Cas,” Dean said gruffly. “What the hell, man? We need you here-”

“Dean.”

Dean looked at Castiel, and frowned. “You could at least hang up when you do that.”

“Would you like me to hang up now?”

“ _Yes_.”

Castiel stared at his new phone blankly, and slipped it into his pocket, hoping for the best.

“So. Is there a reason you’re all prettied up? Did we pull you away from something important?”

Castiel looked down at himself. To his own eyes, he was wearing essentially the same as he always did. There were shoes and pants and a coat and buttons he never bothered with. He had gotten a positive reaction from his brains trust, overwhelmingly positive. He had been glad to get away. But how to answer Dean’s question? Castiel was aware that he was not good at lying. Dean had both pulled him away from planning, which was important, and put him in close proximity to Sam, which was equally if not more important.

“No?” he tried.

Dean gave Cas a long look. “You want to try that one again?”

Castiel huffed impatiently. “Why did you call me here?”

“We’re on our way to a haunting. Nothing big, but we don’t want to get surprised. Heaven has a bad habit of noticing when we poke around at souls.”

Castiel gave Dean a flat look.

“Look, nothing bad or horrible has happened to us in over a week! Our luck’s gotta be running out sometime soon, and this haunting-”

“The forces of Heaven are occupied. _I_ am occupied.”

“No need to get snippy.”

“I can’t guarantee your safety, Dean,” Castiel said, looking away. “Given your lack of survival instincts, you’re likely to run into demons and angels and everything else, with or without my protection.”

“Thanks, Cas. That’s real promising.”

“For the moment, no one is focussed on you.”

“Well, I guess that’s what I wanted to hear.” Dean looked up as Sam came out of the supermarket, laden down with plastic bags full of road food and bottles of water. Dean couldn’t spot a single bag of junk food among his haul. He really should stop letting Sam do the shopping. Even with his brother put back to rights, his taste buds still favoured soulless vegetables.

“Hey Cas,” Sam called. “Woah, looking sharp.”

Castiel looked down at himself again. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, what is with the new suit?” Dean asked. “You got a date tonight?”

Crowley had advised Castiel to go for the prize, to sweep Sam off his feet. “You have no charm or charisma whatsoever,” Crowley had told him. “I’d knock him out, personally, and go from there.” While Crowley was undoubtedly more experienced than Castiel in these matters, Castiel was hesitant to put the advice into play. Sam usually disapproved of assisted unconsciousness.

He realised that the Winchesters were still staring at him, so he made the tactically intellectual decision, and withdrew his forces in order to regroup and strategise a coherent plan of attack. To the untrained eye, it may have borne a slight resemblance to running away. The startled expression on his face didn’t help.

Dean turned to Sam. “You don’t think he really..?”

Sam paused in loading the bags onto the backseat. “Maybe? Maybe he’s the counterattack to this angel seduction plot?”

“Cas? Master seducer? The fate of mankind depends on his ability to woo a chick?” Sam shrugged. “Doomed,” Dean said, shaking his head. “We’re all doomed.”

“How much do we really know about Cas?” Sam asked as he angled himself into the passenger seat. “Maybe he’s got skills we don’t know about.”

“He doesn’t. I’ve seen him with women. He has no clue.”

“According to Meg’s rave review, he’s a fast learner.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Because there’s a reliable source of information. More likely he’s just got _slightly_ more of a clue about these things than the rest of Heaven does.”

“I don’t know, there are angels who have spent more time around people.”

“Yeah, but none of them actually like us humans. At least Cas thinks of us as something worthwhile occasionally. From what I understand, ladies don’t like being addressed as ‘mud-monkeys’. Well, the mud wrestlers probably don’t mind it. You know, if he has to court a mud wrestler he might have a chance.”

Sam tried to hide a smile. “‘Court’?”

“Sammy, of all of the words in that idea you should be focussing on, ‘court’ is not one of them.” Sam smiled, and looked out the window as Dean pulled out of the parking lot. “You sure you’re good for this hunt?”

“It’s no big deal, Dean.”

“I know. I’m just saying, this is one we could handball to someone else.”

“We’re practically there.”

“Alright, alright. If you’re sure.”

They pulled on to the highway in silence, and a few miles passed before Sam spoke. “Now I’m thinking of Cas as Mister Darcy.”

“He doesn’t have the sideburns for it.” Sam snorted a laugh. “Seriously though, I don’t know why he didn’t come to me for dating advice.”

“The last time I followed your dating advice I got a black eye.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you were doing it wrong.”

Sam huffed a laugh, and watched the passing scenery. “We have to get the full story out of him sometime.”

“Sure. It’ll just take a few liquor stores.”

“We’ll bribe him with burgers.”

“And porn.”

“You really need to stop giving him porn. It just confuses him.”

“I know you love talking him through it, Sammy. ‘The gendered roles of a consumerist society satirised through two girls and one cup’.” Sam threw a piece of (organic, unsalted and non-buttered) popcorn at Dean. They laughed, and traded jokes, and they drove onwards with the hope that there was nothing to worry about.

~*~

“He said I ‘looked sharp’,” Castiel reported when he returned to the home base.

“Excellent.” Barnes was sitting cross legged on the floor, with Castiel’s tan overcoat draped over his shoulders. Occasionally Demian would glance at it and scowl. “He’s noticing what you’re wearing, that means he’s noticing _you_ , your body. This is good, good news. What did you say back?”

“I thanked him.”

“And?”

“And then I left.”

There was a silence. “You _do_ know how these things work, don’t you?” Balthazar asked. “You saw the films. You have to do things like interact. Talk.”

Castiel looked away. “I don’t know what to talk to him about.” He turned and gave Balthazar a reproachful look. “I came to you for help for a reason.”

“Well, Team Sammy here have certainly been butting their heads together on the finer points of Samology.”

Castiel looked at them hopefully.

“Well,” Becky said, looking down at her notes. “We went through his romantic entanglements from the books. He likes people who are intelligent, interesting, and have lives that are very different from his.”

“One out of three,” Gabriel called from the kitchen. “You’re getting better!”

“Don’t worry,” Ruby said, rolling her eyes. “Sam has one-night stands with those people.”

“Look, some of those people he really wanted to call again.”

“But he didn’t. He doinked them, most of them died, he left. That’s, like, the definition of one night stand.”

Balthazar gave Ruby a thin smile. “Usually not the dying part.”

“Depends how committed you are to never seeing them again,” she replied casually. “Look, to date? Sam has had two long term girlfriends. I’m one of them, the other one was highly flammable. I know Sam. Guilt is like an aphrodisiac to him. Make him feel like everything is his fault, offer to make him feel better, and he’ll have your ankles up by his ears before you know it.”

“Thank you for that image,” Crowley said, cringing and placing a hand over his eyes. Barnes was sketching on his notepad, and nodded his thanks gratefully.

“That’s not a healthy relationship,” Becky protested.

Ruby waved her hand dismissively. “You know what’s healthy? Celery sticks. And you know what celery sticks are? Boring. It was lust mixed with trust, and that’s all I needed it to be.”

“Lust and trust isn’t a bad deal,” Balthazar said thoughtfully. “You could do a lot worse.”

“And you could do a lot better,” Becky insisted. “What do you want to be? The thing Sam remembers as the best time of his life? Or one of his biggest regrets?”

“You could be something unimportant and unsettling that he immediately forgets?” Ruby suggested, sneering at Becky.

“It’s not fair bringing Jess into this,” Demian said. “She’s the unattainable. She’s the symbol of everything that Sam lost. She’s not even real to him anymore, you know? Just this ideal.”

Becky looked at him, impressed. “I thought you were meant to be a Dean-boy?”

Demian shrugged. “And Dean looks out for Sam.” Barnes slumped over so his head was resting on Demian’s shoulder. “It’s what he does.”

“Have I missed anything?” Gabriel asked, bringing a plate of wedges and an assortment of toppings into the room. For some reason, there was a bowl of chocolate topping and one of sprinkles in among the sour cream and chilli sauces.

“They’re up to the dead girlfriend,” Crowley said, his arms crossed over his chest and one foot tapping impatiently. He snagged a few wedges when the plate was offered to him.

“You going to call her up, too?” Gabriel asked as he played the good host and brought out some bottles of soda. “You’ve got everyone else here, may as well break a soul out of Heaven.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve done everything else to piss off the boys upstairs.”

“I can’t because Jessica Moore is not in Heaven.”

All heads in the room stared at Castiel, then swivelled to stare at Crowley, who shrugged. “We don’t have her either. Be damn handy if we did.”

“Purgatory?” Balthazar suggested.

Castiel shook his head. “No, she had no black marks against her when she died.”

“Oh wow,” Barnes said. “The Jessica Conspiracy Society were correct?”

“Which time?” Becky asked rolling her eyes. “Those idiots completely exaggerate-”

“Jessica died a violent death, right? And Sam saw her after her death. She fits the patterns completely!”

“She’s a ghost,” Ruby concluded.

“She’s on this plane,” Balthazar mused. He looked at Castiel and raised an eyebrow. “We have practically everyone else.”

Castiel nodded. “We’ll seek her out.”

Demian and Barnes grinned at each other and fist pumped. “Stanford road trip!”

~*~

Following the advice of their human cohorts, team “Get Cas a Date” materialised outside of Sam’s old dorm building, and took the stairs. Halfway up, they interrupted what appeared to be a séance being held on the landing.

“We are calling to the ghost of the woman in white…” a girl with dyed black hair intoned.

“Afraid she left her cell phone on another plane of existence,” Crowley said, his eyes black and menacing and he leaned out of the shadows. The girls (and one guy, who had been hoping for make outs) leapt to their feet and tried to race up the stairs, but Gabriel blocked their ways – antlers growing out of his thick hair and his eyes burning golden in the dim light. He grinned at them. There was screaming and blind shoving, and the small group of would-be ‘sensitive beings’ eventually stumbled their way past angels and demons and amused bystanders, and spilled out into the parking lot outside.

“You call this a summoning ritual?” Gabriel yelled after them, practically hanging over the banister. “No one uses purple candles to summon! Get the hell out of here before I sacrifice you to the God of Mediocrity!” He straightened up, and saw the way the crowd was looking at him. “What? Gods are a stickler for these details.”

“I can’t believe they were on the wrong floor,” Becky said, shaking her head. “Does no one know how to Google these things correctly?”

Ruby gave Becky a long look. “You know, stalking isn’t as sexy as Twilight makes it out to be.”

“Shush,” Balthazar scolded her. “That’s the one skill our boy has.” But Castiel was already past them, appearing halfway up the steps, and then Balthazar could feel him on the landing above, and then halfway down the hall, scouting as if he was worried about what he would find.

Balthazar followed him, feeling Gabriel’s large presence taking the long way up the stairs. Archangels were a strange breed, and Gabriel had put his three brothers to shame on that score even before he’d become BFF with a crossroads demon. Balthazar popped into existence beside Castiel, who was staring out one of the large windows that gave an enchanting view of the building opposite.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Waiting,” Castiel replied. There was the rumble of a car pulling into the parking lot on the other side of the building, a loud sound in the late hour. The occupants of the room were elsewhere, and Balthazar sent a minor thanks to his father for small mercies. The last thing they needed was more humans joining their flock.

“Waiting for what?” Balthazar asked as Gabriel cheerfully opened the door, halfway through a tale that was half lies and mostly exaggeration. Becky pushed past him, keen to see Sam’s Stanford environment in all of its cruddy glory, and Demian in his work clothes and Barnes (still draped in Castiel’s tan overcoat) followed, holding hands and looking around in interest. Crowley followed them, looking thoroughly bored. Right up until he crossed the threshold, and then a supernatural wind picked up within the apartment.

“Demons,” Castiel said. He seemed to delight in being unnecessary. Probably something he’d picked up from humanity.

“Thank you, dear,” Balthazar replied drily. “I don’t know what I’d do without your lightning insights.”

And then Jessica was in the room, filling it up with her presence and the ghosts of the flames that engulfed her. Crowley was held frozen in place as she advanced upon him, flickering with anger and making the electrical appliances around the room crackle unnervingly. The humans huddled together near a bookcase, though Demian had his phone out, recording the apparition.

Then, Ruby reached inside the front door from her safe place on the stairwell, and flicked the light switch. “Sorry, hotstuff,” she said. “But we don’t have all day for your theatrics.”

Jessica flickered and then stabilised herself. “I don’t allow demons into my apartment,” she ground out.

“If it helps,” Crowley said, still locked in place, “I’m usually just a middle-man.”

“Come on,” Ruby said, stalking into the room. “One dead girl to another. Not all demons have the worst intentions, and not all ghosts are the fluffy white protective kind.” She put her hands on her hips, and gave Jessica a once over. “So, you’re the reason Sam doesn’t sleep with blondes.”

Jessica paused. “Sam?”

“He wants to make Sam happy,” Balthazar said, jerking his thumb at Castiel. “We’re all just along for the ride.” There was nodding around the room, and Gabriel bit loudly into an apple he’d found in a fruit basket on the bench.

Jess moved to stand in front of Cas, her flickering making her movements jerky as she tilted her head and considered him. They stared at one another for a long moment.

“Is Sam well?” she finally asked.

Castiel gave her question careful consideration. “Mostly.”

Jessica’s mouth twitched. “Do you keep him out of trouble?”

“I try.”

Jessica reached out and wrapped her fingers around one of Castiel’s hands, looking deep into him in a way that living eyes couldn’t bear. Gabriel took another obnoxious bite of his apple, and Balthazar glared at him.

“You do know that’s a wax apple?”

“I’m hoping if I go deep enough, there’ll be cheese inside.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense.”

“Could you two please stop flirting?” Crowley hissed. “It’s nauseating.”

Gabriel blew Crowley a kiss in reply, and the demon rolled his eyes.

“You’re an odd duck,” Jess finally concluded of Castiel.

“Will you tell me how to make Sam happy?” Jessica smiled, and leaned forwards to whisper into Castiel’s ear.

And that was when Sam and Dean kicked the door in.

~*~

“So,” Sam said, sitting beside Castiel on the battered couch. “How’s Heaven’s version of _‘The Bachelor’_ going for you?”

“Not well,” Castiel replied without lifting his head.

“Do you really have to seduce someone to stop the apocalypse?”

“... No.”

Sam let out a chuckle. “Dating’s hard enough.” Castiel remained silent. “So, this – the advice and the movies and the new suit? This is all for, I don’t know, personal reasons?”

“... Yes.”

“And the angels and demons and humans?”

“They were helping.”

“Even Ruby?” Castiel nodded. “Crowley?” Castiel gestured at his new, black suit. “Well, that explains that at least.”

“I’m sorry about Jessica,” Castiel said.

“It’s okay. She was haunting the place anyway. And she liked company, so.”

Castiel nodded absently. “She was very kind.”

They sat in silence for a moment, a tribute to the ghost who had been relieved at her own exorcism. Eventually Sam smiled at Castiel. “I hope it works out for you, whatever it is you’re trying to do. You’re a good person.”

Castiel made a huffing sound that sounded too much like regret to be classed as a laugh. “I’m not a person at all,” he said. “That seems to be the problem.” He lifted his head at last, and looked at Sam with sad eyes. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Sam leaned his head close to Castiel’s. “You want to know a secret? No one knows what they’re doing. Everyone is just out there, bumbling around, trying to make the people they care about happy and worrying that they look like idiots.” He put a large hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about doing things the right way, Cas. Just do them.”

Castiel nodded, and then looked past Sam to where Dean and Gabriel were having a swordfight with kitchen implements. If anyone could kill an angel with an egg whisk, Castiel was confident it was Dean. “I’ve upset Dean,” he said, frowning. “That was not my intention.”

Sam looked over his shoulder, taking in the scene, before turning back to Castiel. “He looks like he’s having fun. We may as well chill out until he gets tired or they get bored.”

“I suspect that will be a long time,” Castiel replied, but he followed Sam’s lead and sunk back into the couch. “We could watch tv?”

Sam chuckled. “Alright.”

“Why did you laugh?”

“Hm?”

“Just now, you laughed.”

Sam tried to repress a smile, and gave up. “When you say things like ‘tv’, the first few times you just sound so proud of yourself. I don’t know, I guess I like that something as awesome as you can still have such wonderment over things that seem to banal to other people.”

Castiel considered this. “’Awesome’ in the way that Dean would use the word, or-?”

“You inspire awe, Cas,” Sam said reassuringly. He wriggled against the back of the couch, and ended up slumping with his knees apart and his arms resting casually by his sides. “Is there anything good on?”

“According to Gabriel, there is always something good on.”

Sam snorted, and Castiel’s attention was caught by the way Sam’s fingers flexed. “Gabriel has awful taste.”

Castiel considered this of his brother as he rearranged himself to mimic Sam’s position. The backs of their fingers brushed together. “He has good taste in hobbies,” Castiel replied, an uncertain defence.

Sam smiled, his fingers twitching slightly. Dean was trying to expel demons in the background, a soundtrack softened by the angels catcalling his Latin and the fanclub telling the angels to hush up. Castiel paused on a show where four old women were bantering in a kitchen.

Half an episode later, he and Sam were holding hands.

 

The end.

 

~*~

**Epilogue: Three weeks later.**

“Why the hell are you moping around?” Dean bitched as he tried to pack he clothes up and Sam didn’t help at all. “You can’t be missing him. He only just left!”

“It’s not that,” Sam said, turning his face away.

Dean smirked, as an explanation occurred to him. “What? All of the spice gone out of your salsa?”

“I have no idea what that even means.”

“Look, don’t make me try to find a more flowery metaphor for ‘angel dick’ and ‘your ass’.”

Sam flushed. “Dean, just shut the hell up already.”

“Wait, I know that look.” Dean peered into Sam’s face, and Sam twisted away, rolling onto his side and burying his head under a pillow. Dean snatched the pillow away and tossed it onto his bed. “You haven’t done it! Three weeks? Three weeks of sexiling me and you weren’t even having sex?”

Sam shrugged. “Since the world’s not ending, like, next weekend, there was no point rushing.”

“What the hell have you two been doing?”

Sam opened his mouth to snark at his brother, but Dean had that mix of surprise and anger on his face, and Sam could see this quickly turning into one of those odd arguments where Dean assured Sam that he was awesome and deserved better by telling him how much he sucked. And Sam could guess who Dean would turn on for round two. Over-protective brother versus clueless boyfriend, round one... fight!

“It’s not... We have a good time. We hold hands, do other stuff.” Dean raised an expectant eyebrow, and Sam had to lower his eyes. “Watch _‘Golden Girls’_. What? It’s like the only show where he gets all of the jokes!”

“You are dating an angel, Sammy. An angel. Angels are freaking awesome in the sack. _Why_ are you holding hands and watching _‘Golden Girls’_?”

Sam shrugged, both mortified to be having this conversation with his brother, and tingling a little from the realisation that, oh, that’s what it feels like to go to your family when you have relationship problems. “I don’t really know what else to do. We talk, but it’s always about the job because I don’t do anything else and he doesn’t talk about Heaven. Sometimes I worry that that’s all there is to him, you know? A meatsuit and an obligation to God or whatever.”

Dean looked at Sam for a long moment. “You know that’s messed up, right?”

Sam gave Dean a frustrated look. “It’s not like dating a person, a human-person. Angels don’t follow our rules, and they don’t come with a freaking manual.”

“Have you tried _asking_ for one?” Before Sam could get his mouth open, Dean had turned around and placed his palms together. “I pray to Balthazar, that dick, that he may get down here ASAP and mock my little brother with me.”

“Wait, Dean-”

“Hullo boys,” Balthazar said with his usual pleasant smirk. Sam slumped. Why was it that the fastest angels were never the ones you wanted to see? “Mockery? That’s a bit of a change from your usual pity party.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Sammy here is having _angel troubles_. Figured once you’re done laughing at him, you might have some tips?”

Balthazar gave Sam a once over. “Eyes are still intact, seems fine to me.”

Sam shot a sulky look at his brother, but the honest truth was that there were a few... dissonances of understanding between Castiel and himself. Balthazar, sadly, was far more verbose than Castiel. He’d probably give Sam a few pointers without meaning to.

“It’s just... Cas and me. I don’t know, I don’t really understand him. How to do this whole ‘dating an angel’ thing.”

Balthazar shrugged. “He didn’t get the whole ‘dating an ape’ thing, but he managed to make that work.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean said. “Him and a team of about fifty people.”

Balthazar looked between Sam and Dean. “Do you really need me to point out the obvious solution?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. “No. But pretend that we do.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Castiel brought one of your exes back from the _dead_ , Sam.”

“Because angels just can’t show affection without it being creepy and stalkerish,” Dean added.

“It’ll be far, far easier for you to find a whole handful of his exes to talk to.”

“Yeah!” Dean said. “Wait, what?”

Sam gaped at Balthazar. “A _handful?_ ”

Dean gave Balthazar a highly skeptical look. “How many exes could Castiel possibly have? He’s _Cas_.”

Balthazar looked surprised at their surprise, and then his mouth stretched in a slow, smug grin. “How long have you got?”


End file.
